Zero-sum
by Alex Foster
Summary: Two Pinehearst agents chase a fugitive. That's pretty much it. Claire/Elle. AU.


Title: Zero-sum

Author: Alex Foster

Word Count: 666

Summary: Two Pinehearst agents chase a fugitive. That's pretty much it. Claire/Elle. AU.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by NBC. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

Notes: This is sort of my anniversary with this pairing so I thought I would write something special from an AU verse I have kicking around in my head. Word count done on purpose because I love Halloween. Hope everyone has a safe one! Thanks for reading.

...

...

If not for the rain you'd just fry the bastard. Midnight foot chases up old stairwells and across rooftops aren't your thing and you resent him more than a little for not doing what he was told by the government.

To punctuate the misery your foot slips in a puddle and you almost go down. It is raining just enough to fill the air with cold mist and render your ability useless and make your skin crawl.

The slip was enough for the special to pull ahead and make you consider giving up the chase – go back to the hotel and let some other Pinehearst agent track him down. Then your partner rushes past.

For a second you forgot her back there, shadowing your ascent. The race is between the rogue special and Claire now and you keep up only to watch the show.

Miss-I-Don't-Feel doesn't mind the rain and her utilitarian boots don't slip as she runs. She is a villain without a taste for the impractical. Pity that, you think.

The fugitive is almost to the roof's edge and Claire's making your pursuit look halfhearted at best. He doesn't seem like he is slowing and neither does Claire. Instead of trying to overtake him, she shifts her trajectory ever so slightly until she is nearly parallel to him.

So much time has passed since Texas and there is so much water behind the dam or however the saying goes that you had forgotten why you call her Cheerleader. Gone is the rigid and precise agent; Claire's movements are fluid and fast. There is no hesitation to her step over the wet ground and no fear that you can see.

That is what makes her special – not _a special_. She can run flat out over a slick rooftop a dizzying number of stories high without worry. Others that get to witness that fearlessness in action often see a monster; you see something different.

Claire and the fugitive hit the edge at almost the same time. You stumble to a stop as they jump for the next rooftop. You can't see her face, just leather and hair dyed dark, but you can tell she's enjoying this.

His arms pinwheel as his body stretches to reach the other side of the gap. Claire's arms are relaxed, close to her body, and her legs extended like she was in the middle of one of those ballet classes left behind in Odessa.

In the blink it takes them to jump you imagine her flipping through the air from the top of cheer pyramids, as graceful and fearless, skirt flashing just enough skin to give the jocks on the home team a thrill.

Claire lands in a crouch and half steps forward to regain her balance. The fugitive isn't as lucky. His chest slams into the edge and he slides backwards – only his fingertips digging through the rain runoff keeps him from falling.

Your gazes meet across the gap and a predatory gleam there causes your ability to itch under your skin. If it wasn't for the damn rain you'd – the annoying fugitive is _still _getting in your way.

He is yelling for help, trying to get a better grip to keep from going over.

Claire walks to him, once again the slow methodical agent. And steps on his fingers.

You don't hear bones break, but bite your lip with glee when one hand drops off the ledge and you watch as he hangs there for a moment teasing you both. His panicky screams make up for the running and sharp stab of every raindrop against your skin. Oh, now he's sorry for all the trouble he's caused.

And just like that he's gone, swallowed by the rain and darkness below.

She's smiling at you, a rare sight few are allowed to see, and you grin back. The home team gets a different kind of thrill these days.

You don't notice the dull sound of his body hitting the ground.

**End**


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